The waitress set tall glasses of cold lagers before each of the men at the table while they looked out at the rolling hills of the golf course. Another day, another male-bonding experience with the Bright boys.
Ian hated golf. He hated the environmental costs and the arcane club rules, the stupid clothes and the old conservative men. But at that moment, he didn’t mind the cold beer and picturesque views. John Senior had invited all the men out for a round on the links, followed by happy hour beers, to discuss “next steps for the family.” Ian probably could have gotten out of the activity on the grounds of not being a biological Bright son, but he had come along for Spencer’s sake. Spencer loved golf.
A group of passing men recognized John Senior and stopped to shake his hand. They told him they’d voted for him and hoped he was enjoying retirement. John Senior stood up from the table and pumped each of their hands before rejoining his family.
“So let’s talk about the thing we’re here to talk about, Dad,” Philip said. “Are you running for governor?”
John took a sip of beer. “Well, son, I’m not sure yet. What do you think I should do?”
“I think you should retire.”
Spencer balked. “Don’t listen to him. You should run, Dad. This is your moment. You’ve always said you wanted to try for governor, and I’d be willing to bet that you poll through the roof right now. Security and immigration are going to be huge issues in the next gubernatorial.”
“Through the roof,” JJ agreed. “I can get poll numbers done for you in two days, no problem. They’ll be rough indicators, but something.”
John nodded. “What do you think, Ian?”
Ian didn’t really want to say. “I agree that you probably poll well right now, after the whole Madrid thing. But I think next fall will be a tough year for establishment Democrats. I just read a New Yorker piece about all the money pouring into progressive candidates right now. Sounds ominous for the old lions.”
John Senior loved to consider himself an old lion.
“Charlie, what do you think?”
“I think you should do what you want to do, Dad. What do you want?”
“You know what I want?” John took a deep breath and looked out toward the mountains. “I want to run for governor of Massachusetts. And I want to do it with my family this time. What do you think, John Junior—you want to be my campaign manager?”
JJ hadn’t worked on a political campaign in fifteen years, but that wasn’t the sort of fact that got in the way of Bright men. He smiled proudly and waited for his father to continue with this soliloquy.
“And I want Charlie running the boots-on-the-ground operation—wrangling volunteers for door knocking, signs, flyers, robocalls. Charlie, I know you’ve never done a campaign before, but you have lots of project management experience that would be directly useful here. Seems like this might be a good transition moment in your career to take advantage of, right?”
Charlie nodded, adding no details about the state of his career.
Ian knew what was going on here. John was sparing all of them the awkwardness of having to articulate their professional stumbles. Charlie’s employer had dissolved, JJ was stalled at work and Spencer was suffering from a severe case of underappreciated genius. John Senior intuited all this and wanted to save them. It was an act of kindness, but it came with rewards for him, too. Ian suspected that this had always been his father-in-law’s vision: to have his offspring all working for him, selling his brand. John Bright Senior wanted his children to be successful in the world, but what he wanted even more than that was to feel like the infallible patriarch to his brood. With this move, he could come to his children’s aid and avoid ever being unseated by them. It was perfect.
“And Spencer, I’ll need you to be my head of policy. I assume you’re committed to another semester of classes, but it could help keep you busy while you’re in between books.”
The Bright men all looked at one another—all but Philip, who had snuck off to the restroom, unnoticed.
“When would something like this start?” Charlie asked.
“Well, we could do some polling this month. We’d have to get all the signatures and paperwork in as soon as possible. And we’d need to get a few big names signed on for early endorsement. I’ve already floated the idea with leadership at the Democratic Governors Association and am pretty confident they would get behind me, which would unlock some major donors. My primary concern is that it’s getting late to jump in, so I don’t want to wait long. Probably your official start dates would be next month. After that, we could work on building out staff and setting up a proper operation.”
“Here?” Ian said.
“No, we’ll have to rent space in Boston. I’ve got a guy, a developer, who owes me a favor and could probably get some reasonable space for us. You could work from your respective homes through the fall and join me there in the winter, once you’ve wound down your other obligations.”
“I’m in,” JJ said first.
“I might be, too,” Charlie said.
Spencer looked at his husband, and Ian sighed in a sort of helpless, resigned signal of permission. “Me, too.”
“It’s decided then!” John stood up with his beer raised high. “We’re running for governor!”
The men all clinked glasses and onlookers turned toward them. It occurred to Ian that John had planned it this way, to get the rumor mill churning about a possible run for governor. It was a trial balloon, as the Brights called it. If the political gossips mocked the idea, John could still scrap it; but if there seemed to be an appetite for a Governor John Bright, then he could confirm the rumor. Nothing was an accident with these people.
Philip returned to the table and looked around. “Looks like you’ve already decided. Are you doing this, Dad?”
“I am, son. Will you help me?”
“I will support you. But it’s not my line of work. What does Mom think of the idea?”
“She thinks it’s a great idea, of course.”
And that was that. They drank their beers and enjoyed the views overlooking the golf course. Strangers approached the table to say hello to the former senator, and he shook their hands and looked into their eyes like they were the only people on earth. John Bright Senior was a politician in every waking second of his life.
“What do you think of it all?” Mary-Beth asked Ian later that night.
She was lying across his bed reading a magazine while he folded laundry. The rest of the family was playing Pictionary downstairs. Farah was presumably capturing it all.
Ian sighed. “I don’t know. I have no opinion about whether or not John Senior runs for governor. I honestly don’t care. But I’m conflicted about whether Spencer should be involved. He loves the idea, of course, but I’m worried that it won’t deliver in the way that he thinks it will. I’m not sure working with his father will make him feel more accomplished in the end. It could do the opposite.”
Mary-Beth nodded. “I know. I was thinking the same thing about JJ. But I’m not sure we have a choice. He hasn’t said it outright, but I get the feeling JJ’s being layered at work. Things aren’t good. We could certainly use the extra money from a campaign.”
Ian stopped folding. “You guys need money? I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true. We went too fast with the new house renovations...the swimming pool and master bath and everything. It’s the dumbest reason to be broke, I know. It’s so embarrassing. God, I shouldn’t be talking about this. Don’t tell JJ I said anything, okay?”
“Of course not. You know me.”
Ian folded T-shirts into a stack. He wanted to say more, but he didn’t know what to say. He loved Mary-Beth. She was one of the best things about these summer vacations: the quiet camaraderie of being extras together, finding sanity in the validation of another non-Bright. Sometimes it felt to Ian that they could have been siblings in a different life, both trim and fair. Either one of them would stand out in a normal family, but not in this one. Their beauty was too muted and wispy for the stark contrasts of the Brights’ dark hair and emerald eyes.
“The truth is,” Ian said, “I just don’t think I can handle a whole year of Bright family interactions. It’s going to be constant. You realize that, right?”
“I can’t even think about it. Are they getting started right away? JJ didn’t have any details when I asked him.”
“I think the plan is to map out the campaign messaging and strategy over the next few weeks, while we’re all here. Then they’ll make a plan remotely in the fall for what comes next. It sounds like we’ll all be back together by Christmas if this is really happening.”
“Oh, God help us.” Mary-Beth laid her head down on the comforter.
She looked especially pretty in that moment to Ian, with her hair uncharacteristically messy and her face free of makeup.
“I should probably get back on my therapist’s schedule before then,” Ian half joked.
She laughed. “Hey, what about Philip?”
“John Senior barely even asked if he wanted to join the campaign,” Ian whispered. “It was like he wasn’t there.”
“What?”
“No. It was so rude. John Senior just waited until he was in the bathroom to pitch this to the rest of them. I mean, it’s a good thing Philip isn’t interested in working on the campaign, but it was still pretty shitty. Anyway, he’s still gung ho about seminary school.”
Mary-Beth thought about this. “I’m kind of glad for him...for having his own thing. It’s healthy.”
“That’s true. He’s his own man.”
“He really is.”
Through the window, they could see Philip under his oak tree, sitting with his legs folded beneath him, eyes closed. A book was open beside him. He had logged dozens of hours out there already, under his tree, while the rest of his family talked and played and competed. His capacity for stillness was astonishing.
“We should go downstairs,” Ian said. “Charlie’s doing his annual slideshow of his international travels at four.”
Mary-Beth rolled her eyes but got off the bed.
“It could be worse.”
They both laughed, knowing that was true. And also knowing that it wasn’t so bad at all, to be a member of this club. These Bright vacations were like cruise ships with twenty-four-hour activities aboard. It was a cheery sort of torture.